her than the achievements of the
family. It towered, large, square, imposing, with hints of M. Mansard's
grandiose architectural ideas in its style, in the very centre of a
village block of land. From the first, it exercised a sort of "I dreamt
I dwelt in marble halls" effect upon me, and in a vague way, at the back
of my mind, floated the idea that when we passed from our modest home
into this commanding edifice, well-trained servants mysteriously would
appear, beautiful gowns would be found awaiting my use in the closets,
and father and mother would be able to take their ease, something after
the fashion of the "landed gentry" of whom I had read in Scotch and
English books. The ceilings of the new house were so high, the sweep of
the stairs so dramatic, the size of the drawing-rooms so copious, that
perhaps I hardly was to be blamed for expecting a transformation scene.

But until this new life was realised, the clean, bare rooms made the
best of all possible play-rooms, and with the light streaming in through
the trees, and falling, delicately tinged with green, upon the new
floors, and with the scent of the new wood all about, it was a place
of indefinable enchantment. I was allowed to play there all I
pleased--except when I had Julie. There were unguarded windows and
yawning stair-holes, and no steps as yet leading from the ground to the
great opening where the carved front door was some time to be. Instead,
there were planks, inclined at a steep angle, beneath which lay the
stones of which the foundation to the porch were to be made. Jagged
pieces of yet unhewn sandstone they were, with cruel edges.

But to-day when the girls said, "Oh, come!" my newly discovered badness
echoed their words. I wanted to go with them. So I went.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see father in the distance, but I
wouldn't look at him for fear he would be magnetised into turning my
way. The girls had gone up, and I followed, with Julie in my arms. Did I
hear father call to me to stop? He always said I did, but I think he was
mistaken. Perhaps I merely didn't wish to hear him. Anyway, I went on,
balancing myself as best I could. The other girls had reached the top,
and turned to look at us, and I knew they were afraid. I think they
would have held out their hands to help me, but I had both arms clasped
about Julie. So I staggered on, got almost to the top, then seemed
submerged beneath a wave of fears--mine and those of the girls--